Ah. Well, it was not the worst he could do after an experience such as this. Still, Sakarra found herself quirking a brow at the fair-haired human who had so unceremoniously dropped into her lap …. again. And despite it all, there was a silent chuckle echoing within, the patient, unquenchable good humor that aside from her night black eyes was the one thing she knew for certain was her father's heritage. Though Rel Tyrax would hardly have considered even one of the multitude of dry comments his little one nearly directed at the staring guards.
Goodness, one might think they had never seen an ambassador fall asleep right under a Vulcan's nose. So what if he had toppled over in a rather awkward way. She suppressed both the urge to shrug and wrinkle her aristocratic little nose at the gaping guard and brushed some of Lamont's hair from his face. She had rarely seen human males wearing their hair this long, although one had to admit it rather suited him.
For a few seconds, the young woman pondered how to best move the good ambassador without causing him discomfort or waking him, gazing down at his surprisingly relaxed face half buried in her amaranth red robes. Roughly one point eight four meters and seventy nine point … well the weight wasn't the issue, really.
"Hm."
Accidentally or not, one of his long arms was flung around her waist which would in fact make the endeavor somewhat easier, but his head was nestling in her elbow which rather negated the advantage. Almost absentmindedly Sakarra noted that Lamont must have found someone to provide him with his usual shaving or other products, because the fresh, light scent tickling her nose was quite familiar.
Finally, she decided against nudging him into a more favorable position and settled for the slow, gentle approach that would perhaps make the guard's jaw drop another centimeter – or teach him about good manners. And since Lamont was asleep he would hardly be embarrassed by the fact his face was carefully lifted until it rested neatly against a Vulcan's neck before he was swiftly picked off the floor and carried to the bunk.
There. Much better. And he had hardly stirred. Seeing as human body temperature tended to drop during sleep, even more so after serious distress, Sakarra deemed it logical to return the blanket to the ambassador and then settled next to the bunk, presenting a perfectly stoic face to her astonished audience. Well, almost perfect. Had the Vulcan security officer been present, he would have known full well what the 0.4 centimeter climb of the exquisitely slanted brow meant.
Ian slowly opened his eyes. As his head cleared he was aware he was on his back looking upwards at the familiar ceiling of the brig. He moved to sit up, but a gentle hand on his chest pushed him backwards into the cushion of the bunk beneath him. Confusion overtook him until his eyes caught sight of Sakarra overhead.
In her native tongue she softly spoke and her words were eventually translated by his slowly awaking mind. "Rest easy ambassador. Do you know where you are?"
"Not sure I care so long as you are near", Ian said dreamily still half asleep unaware his inhibitions were not protecting either of them from his true thoughts.
Sakarra blinked.
The undisguised affection in the ambassador's voice seemed somewhat … excessive, though one could certainly attribute that to his semi-conscious state. Combined with his choice of words however …
Forced to wonder if she had yet again misinterpreted or unwisely disregarded certain signs as human exuberance, the young Vulcan canted her head to the side, subjecting Lamont to a thoughtful gaze. Well, it was only logical he would react this way, no? After the events that had lead to him being confined to the brig yet again, the added distress of having to endure solitude and isolation once more – and it was a terribly unpleasant thing for his kind, that much even Sakarra knew – and then the mental 'overload' so to speak …
She was reasonably certain the ambassador regarded her as a friend, so projecting tumultuous emotions towards a trusted person who also happened to be the only one available in this confinement should not be surprising.
But still, there were times when being an empath would have distinct advantages. Suppressing a small sigh, the young woman shook her head, sending sable curls sliding over her shoulders.
"Well, I am here Mr Lamont."
Ian smiled softly as the cobwebs of slumber slowly broke loose as his mind freed itself from their gentle grasp. Was he dreaming? He looked up into the Vulcan's eyes and the dark curls which splayed over her shoulders and cascaded downwards…
If this was heaven he did not want to wake up. But like all good dreams this one abruptly ended as well as his senses and faculties returned. The ambassador's dreamy smile soon faded as he became all too aware of what he had said and to whom. Suddenly his face flushed and his cheeks grew warm as embarrassment coursed through him. What else have I said, he mused. Choosing to say nothing of the incident, Lamont simply ignored it hoping he had not said anything too inappropriate.
"How long was I out", he asked rubbing his head which pulsed with a dull achiness. The memory of recent events was slowly coming back into focus though it seemed hazy and dreamlike.
"Fifty-four point seven minutes, Mr Lamont." Barely enough time to prepare a decent cup of tea, and she would have given several months' worth of pay right now for one of those.
At least the good ambasador's eyes were focused now, almost back to their usual emerald clarity after she had already grown mildly concerned when he would not cease looking at her like a man half stuck in a trance. And she certainly could understand the small show of embarrassment – after all, a Vulcan would have been experiencing no small measure of that after falling over into another's lap, though showing it would only have made it worse.
Quietly, Sakarra even admitted it was rather endearing. No matter how proper and exquisitely polite, Lamont appeared not above letting small weaknesses show in her presence, once more sparking her good humor and above all, the millennia old instinct of the Vulcan female. There is no fiercer ally than he who trusts freely, and no greater responsibility than accepting this gift.
"I deemed it logical to return you to the bunk so you may rest."
Once again Sakarra had been there to assist him. "When will I get the opportunity to assist you Sakarra", Lamont said his tone equally split between jest and candor. "You seem to be my guardian angel as of late." He paused for a moment and continued. "I couldn't ask for a better one", he said with a smile. Despite her protests, Ian slowly sat up in the bunk. He felt somewhat unsteady and drained, but other than a mild headache seemed no worse for wear after what had occurred.
"I find myself in a position of thanking you once again Sakarra. I feel as though this is becoming a habit. However I will refrain from peppering you with adulation per your request. However your actions are again appreciated."
Guardian Angel? Pepper?
Once more, Lamont was treated to the sight of a Vulcan with a tilted head, blinking at him inquisitively like a little bird perched on a branch. "I am certain the opportunity will arise, ambassador. And even if it does not," she made a small gesture that conveyed both gentle amusement and equanimity "will you begrudge me the simple pleasure that comes from being able to offer aid to a friend? I must admit however, I do not fully follow your Guardian Angel metaphor. If my understanding of ancient terran mythology is correct, would not pitchforks be associated with my physical appearance? Or …" for a split second, something one could almost have called a smile flickered across her serene features, a minute change in the set of the soft, elegant lips, come and gone in the space of a Vulcan heartbeat "… forests, I believe, and springs. As well as a vague reference to spells and enchantments."
Lamont wasn't exactly following the Vulcan's subtle and veiled words until after a long moment of contemplation he at last comprehended her meaning. If he wasn't mistaken Sakarra appeared to have made a joke. Was it? His gaze intensified as he scoured her features and to his surprise felt..something behind it. Was he imagining things? He pushed aside the questions and refocused.
No? It was! He detected humor…or at least he thought he did.
So taken by the moment a smile slowly formed on his face which was followed by a chuckle.
"Unlike others of my species I do not correlate the Vulcan people with certain Terran mythological beings. Indeed if I were in a forest filled with babbling brooks, and springs I believe I would be predisposed to falling under said spells. And in so much as enchantments go, I must confess I am always quite enchanted in your presence on many levels." He bowed slightly paying Sakarra compliments for her to contemplate as he knew she would.
[To be continued …]
Ambassador Ian Lamont
And
Lt. Commander Sakarra Tyrax
